Coming Together Into One
by CuteMcBeauty
Summary: Captain Swan One shot Narrative exploring the first time Killian and Emma make love. Not smut, but still VERY EXPLICIT! Loads of fluff (Smuff maybe!) and CS love. Please rate!


It's been two weeks.

Only two weeks since their first kiss.

Ok, not the first. But the first real kiss, the first one that meant anything other tan a challenge, the first kiss that did not involve wanting to jog memories or save lives from drowning.

Two weeks since they both openly caved into each other. Only two weeks.

But they both feel like it's been a lifetime, for some reason, as if they had been together, not just since they met, but since the beggining of time itself. She can no longer envision walking, even to a grocery store, without her faithful pirate shadow in leather, nor does she seem to want to. And he can no longer see his life not being that shadow. He basks in her presence, he feels, he breathes better and sees better, drawn to her light like some fly drawn to fire. She is his shining beacon of hope… he is her foundation, her only solid guarantee in times of joy and uncertainty.

They are meant to be, by fate, by choice and by desire. They know that now.

So even when it's only been two weeks –two weeks of laughing, kissing, relishing in each other's company, of him smiling at her smile and her smiling at his, two weeks of her suddenly seeing what was always in plain view but she had never really stopped to see, two weeks of him feeling drunk and dizzy, not from his perennial companion flask of rum, but from her love and energy and the dazzling shine of her sunlit hair…- even if time has not given them more options, well…

Tonight is the night. It's their night.

She has a new place, one found for her by her son; thoughtful little guy who was blatantly aware of the fiery dynamic between his mom and her pirate follower. It was only a matter of time before either one of them yielded. And it was a good thing they both did, because he, too, liked that apartment, right in front of the bay, where the sound of waves softly grazing the harbour and the early call of seagulls soothe the ocean-forlorn heart of his mother's new love. And she too, relishes in the peace of his grin during those visitiations where, courtly gentleman that he is, he always, always drops her off at her door and sleeps on a couch below, never too far that he will miss breathing the same air she breathes and never too close to cross the line of his courtship.

This time, however, she is adamant; she openly expresses without a margin of error how much she loves him, how much she wants to rise in the morning to see the very first smile and hear the very first word from his lips… how much she needs him at her side, not just her shadow in leather, but her partner, skin to skin, no barriers, no limitations. She wants him whole, heart, body and soul.

He sighs, smiles and nods, holding her in his arms and savoring the sweet anticipation of what she is and would become. He is a man of good form… and this means the definite union, the ultimate covenant.

The boy spends the night with his grandparents, always the kindest souls who relish in family time. So the place is theirs to enjoy. All know. All are good.

He arrives before she does and dilligently sets about making this more tan just a night of physical love… he sets a perfect, old fashioned, kingly table, with candles, lots of cuttlery and plates one on top of the other. One handed and all, he may lack that limb but with his other he makes a perfect meal. One skill he had to acquire to impress lords and ladies… and now a princess. He cleans up, changes from a leather vest to a red velvet one, soft to the touch, with a White shirt underneath and foregoes his usual leather trousers for a more down-to-earth pair of black jeans, all under a shorter, more modern leaher jacket. A rather dashing combination of his bad boy and his good boy sides.

He assumes…

…. Or hopes she will like the change, rather.

Just as she is parking at the front gate, he stands and ligts the candles. They flicker, pristine and unmelted, as she puts her key through the keyhole and gasps in awe and delight at the smell of the cuisine, at the detail of a perfect table… and at the sight of him clad in a different garb, which, must be said, does not at all deprive him of his powerful, bad boy persona.

Her pirate is still her pirate… and he looks wonderful.

He stands and pulls a chair for her; pours her wine and sits by her side, cups clinking.

He makes a toast, to the best two years of his life, and the best two weeks where it all came together. She replies she'll drink to that and to the hope of another two weeks… and two more after that… and two more after that, until they're both too old to even want to be apart.

She wants a forever. He smiles at that, and emotion is caught in his chest as he leans in for a soft kiss.

They eat, they drink and they feel the warm buzz of the wine atop the spin of their heads. He can hold his rum, but wine always did get the best of him. She is another matter; she is loose, happy, smiling… and he has never loved her more than now.

They exchange a knowing look: she blinks and smiles… his left lip upturns and his right brow rises as he nodds in acknowledgement. That's one of the great things between them: sometimes words are unnecessary for them. They talk from heart to heart, they always have. No imperative need to speak in order to convey the message that they want each other…. Now.

He comes from a long history of piracy and hatred, found his peace and light in her wake.

She stems from loneliness and insecurity, always looking and finally, after years of running, finally finding him.

Neither one will ever be alone again.

She silently places her cup down and stands up, grabbing his hook as she pulls him off his chair after her. In quietude he leads him up to her room… and she is once again startled to find it clad with candles and a specially folded quilt with a single red rose.

He spared no detail. And he says she's worth every single loss, effort, tear, sweat and drop of blood he's ever shed for her. She is touched, far more deeply tan ever before. He tells her she is his home, his life and his everything… and she simply replies with a smile and a caress to his cheek.

She doesn't have to say it. He knows.

They come together in a kiss, slow at first, wanting, prodding and supple, like that moment when a bottle of port wine is opened after a hundred years. It breathes, it wallows in the moment and inhales the air around it. Then the kiss intensifies as his hand wraps around her waist, pulling her to his own body. Only the sound of the waves outside and the wet, sizzling lips as they savour each other can be heard in the room. He feels his hand travel into her hair and to the back of her neck while both her hands move up to his always bare chest, where she can feel the dark hair of it amidst her slender fingers.

He gasps at the fell, at the contact. Even when she has never touched him like this before, it already feels so deep and so intimate, he knows he is dangerously close to wanting this forever. He already does, anyway. The long haul, he had said. Her right hand moves to the nape of his neck, his black tresses a jungle in her hand, and she pulls him to her for a deeper kiss. Their tongues dance with each other and taste the inside of their lips as their breathing becomes stronger, harder, deeper.

Deeper.

She pulls apart and he blinks back into reality. She stands before him, but won't leave. This, he knows, is no longer a one time thing. She grins as she takes a hand to his chest, unbuttoning the black shirt and red velvet vest he wears. He swallows and closes his eyes with a smile. One handed, he is somewhat unable to undo her own buttons… but she knows. When she finishes his shirt, she procedes to her own. He watches her strip as he removes the now losely open shirt, staring at her with peeked interest as she slowly reveals every curve he had only seen in his innermost dreams, and is delighted to see that they are far more beutiful in real life than in the mirror of his mind. He caresses her shoulder and falls to his knees, kissing her navel and working his way up between her ribs and breasts, finding his home on her collarbone, standing once again and pulling her to himself, skin to skin, burying his face into her neck as she tilts her head back and wraps both her arms arond his head. He feels wonderful to the touch, like a piece to a puzzle she hadn't even known she had started putting together that very first day when she dug him out between the corpses of Cora's rampage.

A tall beanstalk… a pair of shackles… the wound on her hand and his attentive healin method with rum and his teeth tugging on a scarfe…

It was there even then. The scoundrel gentleman who always found his way back to her side.

And yes, it is him. Although it is not him. He is different now, and yet still deliciously the same.

She loves him now… maybe that is the difference.

Having a hook makes it easy for him to simply take her brassiere apart. She would normally throw a fit over it… but she doesn't. She has more of those… but only one of him. She allows the garment to slide down her shoulders and to the floor and he takes one step back to see her, admire her… smile at her. He tells her she is beautiful, his eyes cruising from her nipples to her eyes, a smile on his lips the biggest reassurance she's ever felt. She takes his good hand and places it on top of one of her breasts, and he doesn't fight back. He looks on as he feels the gente, soft mound beneath the rough, calloused grooves of his hand, the years of exertions aboard a ship he no longer even thinks of, especially not now that she is his… completely his. They come together again in a kiss as his thumb plays with the soft, pink button and she gasps, a beautiful sound to his ears.

The gears are shifted. There's no going back.

She knows this the moment he instinctively thrusts his hips into her… close, tight and really quite at the ready.

And she likes that.

She takes her hands to the button of his jeans and with her lips still locked into his own, she undoes it and brings the zipper down. She uses one leg to bring his trousers down and he simply kicks off the loafers he had been wearing to allow the garment to slide off his legs. He wears only a cotton undergarment now and it is plain to her how much he wants her, needs her… he is hard beneath the soft fabric.

She pulls back once more, and finds her own libido soar as she sees him bite his lip and swallow hard, looking at her as she removes her own trousers and socks. She is like a Venus, like a godess of the oceans. He is deliciously male, every bit the man she wants and needs…

And he's not dead… or going anywhere soon. He is a safe bet. That alone is what she always wanted… a safe bet.

She knows of one more obstacle, though… one far more intimate tan the very undergarments that now conceal their yearning sexes…

His hook brace.

His expression turns from lusty to sheepish, his eyes from dark to a sad, fearful blue. He doesn't stop her or flinch, but turns in the other direction and grimaces as she unties the leather straps that hold the contraption in place… she slides it off and looks at him. The whole of him.

He feels unguarded and shy and not at all the cocky pirate she once knew. He is aware that, with the hook, he is a fearful captain… without it, only a handicapped man.

She touches his wrist, because right there, it's all he has. There are scars that live to tell the tale of the loss. She is now standing in front of him, aroused but even more in love with the vulnerable man standing in front of her.

She takes his right hand in her left and entwines her fingers in his… and her left hand grabs the wrist where his hand should be… she looks into his eyes and grins, making him look at her, and tells him that she wouldn't have him any other way.

He gasps, stunned and touched by her words, and he can feel tears coming, but he just holds him there, in the huge blue pools of his eyes. They shine like the night stars now and she can't believe how she never acklnowledged to herself just how beautiful his eyes really are. He tells her that he loves her, and she pulls him to her bed, lying down with him on top of her.

He is finally free. And they want to be free together.

After kissing his way around her neck, he regains his sexual prowess and begins to work his way down again, past her collarbone, capturing each nipple in his lips and mositening them with his toungue, hungrily, wanting to make her start to soar. This is about her… he wants her to see the stars, to reach out and bring one from the heavens for him. Her gentle moan and the touch of her hand on his head is encouragement enough… he continues his journey down, down, lower, savoring the pool of her belly button and gently kissing over the soft fabric of her underwear. He forgets he's not wearing his hook as he tries to tug the fabric down with it. They both giggle. It's not uncomfortable to do so anymore. He uses his good hand and with a finger, gently tugs down as he traces kisses along the way. He is a pirate and she is a treasure cove. It's his expertise.

She parts her legs slightly to allow him the room he needs to explore her with his prodding tongue. He finds her quickly and by the sudden gasp from her lips, he knows where he has to work. One lick, then two, his lips pressed against the walls of her most intimate button. He groans at the sound of her moaning, so soft, so gente, almost like the sound of the waves outside the window. She calls his name, softly, almost like a prayer… Killian… Killian…

He knows she's about to reach her peek. She can feel him smile as he releases his fingers from her hand and takes them down to help him explore her inside. Just as he slides one finger into her, she gasps again. He moves upward and lays beside her, looking and staring at her face, delighted in delighting her as he works with his fingers, inside and out, inside and out. He smiles… she is looking really very pleased and he feels glad to be the one making her so happy. This is all he wants in life… to make her happy.

They are off to a good start.

She looks at him, gasping for breath, and takes a hand to him, pulling hi slips to her once more; she kisses fervently, hungrily, wantonly… and then she climaxes, hard around his fingers. She moans aloud into his mouth and he groans back, feeling her pulsating orgasm around his fingers and anticipating how this will feel around him. It has promise.

He starts to feel the need for her grow too powerful for him to ever even dream of not having this on a constant basis.

She promptly reaches down to touch him beneth his undergarment. He closes his eyes as her hand wraps around the length of him, still rythmically pulsating from her unbelievable peak. He kisses her ear gently as she tugs, pulls, releases and caresses him while still regaining control of her breath.

His garment comes off. That's it. All walls, emotional and physical, are completely down now. She looks at him and he can appreciate a lusty grin as she licks her lips. He lies on his back as she turns her own position, now doing the endeavour he had undertaken only minutes earlier.

She reaches him. Kisses him. Engulfs him little by little. He is by no definition a huge bearer, but she knows that he will fill her perfectly, like a hand to a glove. Perfect size, perfect shape… perfect man.

This time, it is he who whispers her name and caresses her head. Emma… Oh, Emma….

He swallows and licks his lips, gasping and gagging as he grasps a hold of her hair.

She stops… at his own calling. He pulls her to his lips, kisses her deep and turns her over so that he is on top. He is lying on top of her now, looking into her eyes, caressing her hair by her temples.

"I love you…" He says to her.

"I love you…" she says back with a smile.

He nodds.

He finds his way inside her.

She closes her eyes and grins as she presses her head into the pillow, her arms around his neck. He looks at her, every second a precious instant. Her pleasure is his reward… it is his reward for the sacrifice of selling his home, his ship, the Jolly Roger. It is his reward for bearing with her ups and downs and her running hot and cold…. Of drowning for her, following her to unknown lands, risking his life for making her remember who she is… and right now, she is his everything. He feels her around him, engulfing his full length like she has already engulfed his entire life.

He knows he finally deserves her… and she deserves nothing but the best he can give. It is not a desire, a want or a need, but a privilege to be the man to make love to Emma Swan.

They are good this way… it's almost as if they had never not been together.

He finally comes down on her, his face in her neck, kissing her ear and praising every inch of her with his words as he moves inside of her, in and out, constantly there, bodies pressed together, words exchanged, smiles, intimate kisses… all the while he is inside of her, a part of her… a part of each other.

She is again breathing hard. She loves him… so much.

He moans… He loves her…. Too much.

Something happens… they begin to glow.

They both feel it, her magic enveloping the two of them, almost at the very moment when both reach their highest, most wonderful orgasm together. He moans hard into her ear, grunting a couple of cuss words. Her bad boy is still there, and she likes it. She only screams his name again. The white magic adds to the overall feeling of togetherness, of belonging…

Their souls are bound together.

Still inside of her and empty of his seed, he looks at her, She opens her eyes and looks back at him with a smile. They kiss gently and grin. They know this was much more than just a really good connection.

"Marry me…" He whispers.

"Sure…" She whispers back.

The light slowly glows down and they are now a man and a woman who have just become one… He rolls off of her and lies at her side, tucking her into his arms as she gently drifts into sleep. He follows not soon after.

They sleep a dreamless sleep. Who needs dreams when the dream is their reality?

And the morning light gives her what she wanted… His waking smile.

And the morning light gives him what he wanted… Her waking eyes.

The candles are blown out… and only the sound of the waves outside remains. He loves the sea… it's timeless.

And so are they.


End file.
